immortality
by Personality Test
Summary: "Certainly, a long life doesn't mean happiness." Giratina. A vignette.


A/N: I wrote this pretty much on the dot in around one or two hours, so there should be quite a few grammar mistakes. Sorry about that. This drabble is all about going with the flow and all that - spoiling the rest is losing half the fun, and I have to take what I can get. This is written for the General Prompt Challenge, #22: celestial.

* * *

**05.**

It was 5.00 am in the winter, and the sun was nowhere in sight.

Frankly, Giratina didn't give a damn whether the sun was coming up or not; its day wouldn't change much in the Distortion World, where even the strongest rays couldn't reach. It was because even the Renegade has a routine, and could get pretty miffed if said routine got disrupted somewhere along the eternity of solitude in this godforsaken dimension of death.

Not like Giratina was bitter about it. Definitely, obviously not bitter or anything, of course.

Giratina shook its tentacles – rulers or guardians or whatever Arceus called them, the snow was still freezing cold. Snow was annoying. The snowflakes always, always floated around without a purpose, they always got in its nose and making it sneeze in the process, and they turned the once green-filled surface to pure white. Like the Hall of Origins atop Mt. Coronet – the same kind of oblivion – both beautiful and annoying.

Finally, there was a tiny light rising above the horizon, and Giratina marked this the two hundred and twenty eighth sunrise it had seen since the imprisonment - well, since it discovered the doorway to Sendoff Spring, at least. Trudging back to the Distortion World, Giratina couldn't help but look back – just once, just a tiny glance – at the pale light shining upon the white snow, and scolded itself – why should it look back, for whatever reason, at a scene it was going to see everyday, without fail, forever and ever?

"_Why, indeed…"_

* * *

**04.**

How much time had passed?

Giratina could go out on a limb and say it had been around three decades or two millennia – it was the same nonetheless. True to its description, Distortion World was a whole different dimension free from the reins of time and space. And color, which was just an added bonus.

It vaguely remembered something about the outside world, like the funny yellow color in the sky, which was a thousand times lighter than its crown-like mane. If Giratina racked its brain long enough, it could remember even the weird smell every time it rained, and maybe even all colors of the rainbow – which was quite a feat considering how long the Pokemon had stayed in darkness.

In the end, maybe this place really was a prison, true to Arceus' words. The damned bastard.

Giratina had learned how to count a day. There were times when this world would be a lighter shade of gray, and sometimes it would just be pitch black. Each of those periods was a day. Three days had passed, quickly as a blink of an eye, and there were far more days to come.

"_Why do those 'celestials' live such long and meaningless lives?"_

* * *

**03.**

Two weeks into its imprisonment – it had a general sense of time, and really, the lighting of this world kinda helped a tiny little bit. The lighter grey was day, the dark period was night. It wasn't that hard to count from then on.

Two weeks, and it was fine, to be honest. Dialga was fickle and incredibly philosophic. Palkia was plain too cheery and took 'probing' to a whole new level. It was nice to get a place all to itself, with the right shade of color and decent space to thrash around. Arceus had really outdone itself with this so-called prison.

Giratina could stay here forever and they would never know. They would slowly forget there was a rebel in their midst, and said rebel had tried to overthrow the Creator. Humans would be the first to forget; they lived such short lives it was laughable. Its downfall would be a mere legend, told to warn kids never to wander out at night lest the tentacled demon came to get you - if it wasn't trapped for eternity, of course. Pokemon would remember that dreadful day for years, and gods even longer, but then they'd forget. They always did in the end.

"_Being a god, is it a blessing, or the cruelest curse even the Creator itself couldn't have thought of?"_

* * *

**02.**

Wasn't the swirling red flames much, much better than the sickeningly white snow?

It looked defiantly at Arceus as the flames returned color to the scenery - melting away the blindness of the forest. Snow was annoying - that was a known fact - and it was just helping things along. And if some houses got burned along the way - humans were so pathetically weak it was not even funny. They would just have to deal with it.

The red conflagration was gone and so was the white oblivion, but there was still light in the endless darkness. Condemned for eternity, banished from this world - it looked at the light with a wicked smile and willed it to go away.

Wasn't darkness much, much better?

"_They couldn't be more wrong – these deities are no pure white angels, no faraway stars."_

* * *

**01.**

"There is a few key differences between a star and a planet, you know." Uxie whined when Giratina accidentally spoke what it was thinking out loud.

"I know, I know. You've only told me this a million times before."

"And you still don't remember, ironic enough." The pixie huffed in return, and its voice softened at the other Pokemon's forlorn gaze. "Stargazing again tonight?"

"The star-dotted sky looks like winter snow - if I look hard enough, maybe I'll be able to see it."

"Snow in summer, huh. Why don't you ask Arceus to make it snow, just for one day?"

"I won't. Winter snow is something celestial - it certainly isn't something to be seen all of a sudden."

"_Somewhere, someone once compared celestial beings to angels; others called stars by such pretty words."_

* * *

**00.**

It was 5.00 am in the winter – or at least that was what the guardian of time said – and Giratina saw the pale golden light reflecting off the white oblivion for the first time in its life.


End file.
